


Falling in Love Twice

by Jiodaxa



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiodaxa/pseuds/Jiodaxa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mr. Gold kissed Belle in that hospital and then gave her the cup, she didn't know who he was. But if he can make her feel something for him once again, True Love's kiss might just work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling in Love Twice

Closing the door behind him, Mr. Gold left the hospital room in a haze. It didn't work. Nothing did. Not True Love's kiss, not even that precious cup that meant the world to him when he thought her dead. And now even that was gone. He didn't want to think of the look in her eyes when she stared at him, seeing nothing but a stranger, but he couldn't help himself from doing it. She had been so scared of him after she was shot, terrified he'd hurt her. And now she just wanted him to go away. But the worst part was seeing the love in her eyes gone, when before they shone with warmth and devotion for a man she believed was worthy of it, even if he didn't see it himself.

What could he do now? What remained? Strange how he could manipulate other people's lives, shaping them until he got what he wanted, seeing ahead what had to be done, and when it came to Belle, he saw nothing. He didn't feel calm or collected. He felt out of control, desperate and powerless. He wanted to kill Hook so badly right now, to take his frustrations on the one who harmed her, hurt him until he begged for mercy. But that foolish Charming had a point. What would Belle want him to do? Not kill Hook, of course. And even if she didn't remember him he still wanted to be a better man for her. She deserved it.

Mr. Gold got into his car and drove away. He couldn't be in that hospital right now, facing her rejection and the forlorn look in her eyes. But he couldn't go home either. Her stay, however brief, was enough to make him think of it as their home, not just his anymore, and the memories of her there were more than he could bear right now. So he drove to his shop and sat in the back room, dangerously close to crying. He supported his head with his hands, and felt his heart break again in a thousand little pieces. He put it together last time, when he found his Belle to be alive, but now, if she never remembered him again and yet he still saw her everyday... it was too much. But he couldn't stop seeing her, even if he no longer belonged in her life. Even if he became broken beyond repair.

Like her cup. It was nothing but porcelain and yet it was so much more. His anchor in darkness and his only memory of a lost love, lying broken on that cold floor, almost in as many pieces as his heart. Without it, how was he to remember her when she was gone forever? A smart, beautiful and brave young girl, falling in love with him, twice? Impossible. And yet, all he wanted and desired.

She was so happy for him when he told her he was able to cross the town line and search for his son. She had wanted to come along but couldn't, so she wished him all the luck in the world and promised to wait for him. He barely felt the tears running down his face, his mind lost in sorrow and anguish. What he wouldn't give to have her say that again. But at this point, he'd settle for a friendly look.

Belle was still sitting in the hospital bed, her eyes drifting to the broken little pieces on the floor. People kept saying her name was Belle but she couldn't remember, and she wanted so much to do so. They knew her and yet she didn't know them, no spark of recollection on her mind, no matter how many faces came by and talked to her. Especially him.

He was too familiar with her, so persistent and fierce. She wasn't sure she wanted to remember him. He had scared her at first, but now she didn't know what to think. He was a stranger, a pushy stranger who didn't leave her alone. Ruby called him Mr. Gold and told her he wouldn't harm her, she was safe from him, probably the only one that could say that.

She couldn't tell if Ruby had been her friend before, but she had said they were friends and she was nice with her understanding of Belle's need for patience, her desperation in being utterly alone in the world, remembering nothing and no one.

But even so, she were right in one thing. Mr. Gold didn't hurt her, quite the opposite in fact. It looked like she hurt him instead, and she felt shame and regret for breaking something that clearly meant a lot to him, even if it was meaningless to her. She had no right to do so, and wondered if that was who she was, a selfish person that didn't care for other people's feelings.

She had confessed this to Ruby, and she had assured her that was not the case. That she was nice and loving, and that was why even Rumpelstiltskin had seen that and fallen in love with her. Who was Rumpelstiltskin, she asked? Well, he's Mr. Gold, from another land in another world. That part was confusing and she thought at first they were mocking her. But she'd seen him do magic when he healed her shoulder, after she'd been shot.

And she'd turn on him, asking what he was, not even thanking him. Another thing to regret. Maybe Ruby was wrong and she was a selfish person. It appeared to her she did nothing except hurt him, when he had been so nice to her, however pushy he might be. So, after asking Ruby for glue, she picked up the big pieces of the ruined cup, ignoring the little ones she knew were impossible to restore. Ruby left, leaving her to her task after she denied her assistance. This was Belle's mistake and she would fix it by herself.

It was easier said than done. She was so clumsy, her fingers catching on the jagged ends of the porcelain shards, blood spilling out on the white sheets of the hospital bed. She didn't care, she had to do this. When the nurse came around, she had to fight with her to keep the broken pieces and eventually managed to compromise with a few band-aids and a promise to be more careful. She was almost done, the need to finish this driving her for hours.

Some pieces were really hard to put together but she accomplished her task. More or less. It looked horrible; it was uneven and incomplete, ugly to look at. Nothing like it was before. Belle nibbled on her lip, a heavy weight on her chest. She hadn't been very nice, had she? And now the stranger with sad eyes would look at this and wish he could throw it at her head, she was sure of it. He was probably angry with her and she deserved it.

Her hands were shaking once more, she noticed with despondency. She brought her knees up to her chest and did the same thing she has been doing lately: she cried. The tears fell uncontrollably down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them off, instead letting herself sob and quiver with abandon.

It wouldn't do her any good, but right now she needed it. She didn't want to be alone and scared and desperate, but the feelings didn't go away. She thought again of Mr. Gold, his kind words and smiles, and for a moment she desired nothing more than his presence by her side, his arms around her in comfort, and his warmth and kindness. But he was a stranger, and that thought quickly left her.

Belle ran a hand through her face, hiccupped once or twice, put the cup on the nightstand and tried to get some sleep. She wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, even though going "home" was going to be difficult. They told her she had an apartment over the library but she obviously didn't remember. Everything was clouded in an eerie feeling on uncertainty, and the artificial lighting of the hospital wasn't helping. She actually thought it was starting to give her nightmares.

She looked to the nightstand again. The stranger had left her a flower, a red rose without thorns, the only adornment on the cold room. She reached for the petals with her hand, touching them briefly. Yes, he was far too familiar with her. Before, she hadn't really given a thought of who he was to her, why was he screaming her name, or why did he have such a desperation in his voice and in his eyes.

But Emma had talked to her, as well as Ruby and Mary Margaret, and though she was a little dazed when they told her he was her boyfriend, at least she understood his actions better. But still she couldn't react like he wanted. She needed time and he wasn't helping, coming around insisting on her remembering, eager to see even a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It would take time and patience. But the flower was a comfort to her as she drifted off to sleep.

When Belle woke up again, it was morning. She picked up her terrible patch job, staring at it like it would suddenly become perfect again. It didn't. It looked even more hideous in the daylight. She sighed, and then jumped a little when the door to her room opened.

It was him.

Mr. Gold almost didn't come to see her this morning. He didn't want to scare her anymore than he already had, and that cricket kept telling him he needed to be calm for her, not rushing things. He had a point but it was very difficult, seeing her there and not touching her, not being able to say he loved her. It was so cruel, having her so near and yet so distant.

Belle was looking at him not with the distrust he had become used to, but with something he couldn't quite put his finger on, although it was enough to give him the courage to step forward. She didn't say anything but didn't ask him to leave either, so it was a small victory. She was holding something in her lap. Following his eyes, she held out her hands, offering him the cup she had broken the day before.

"I'm sorry." Belle said in a low voice, and it took him a second to register she was afraid of his reaction. Just like in his castle, when she chipped it after his admittedly stupid joke. It left him a little sad to think she was scared of him again, fearful he'd be angered over something so little. Of course he wasn't angry and he'd prove it to her.

He slowly approached the bed and tried to resist, he really did, but since he couldn't, he sat on the bed near her, gripping his cane harder when she recoiled a little, startled at his actions. She relaxed when he made no move to touch her, still holding her hands out to him. He took the cup, his hands briefly touching hers, and this time she didn't cringe.

Mr. Gold noticed the band-aids on her fingers and suddenly figured out her expression when she saw him. She felt guilty for breaking the cup, knowing it was important to him. Oh Belle. Even without memories and with the frights he'd been giving her, she was still thinking of his feelings. Somehow, stripped of her memories and being given none by the curse, there was still a part of the Belle he knew in her.

"You're hurt." He said, his voice also in a whisper. Belle looked down at her hands and shook her head, clearly not concerned over that. But he was. He leaned the cane on her nightstand and held the cup with his left hand. The other made a deliberate and careful path to the folded hands on her lap. Encouraged by her lack of aversion at his touch, Gold took hold of her hands gently, her warmth searing him. He wanted to heal her but did not dare. She's had enough scares already.

Belle was transfixed by this stranger. He could be so overwhelming and yet so kind and tender at the same time. He wasn't making any demands from her and she liked that. He wasn't angry either; instead, he was worried that she had hurt herself. She was starting to see him in a whole new light, while an odd longing that almost made her cry ran through her.

She could feel her need for comfort and rest, for these horrible feelings to go away. She wanted to remember her life, who she was, her friends, her job. And she wanted to know him as well. Mr. Gold. His eyes were as kind as his touch, and she trembled a little, still looking at him. He was handsome, she thought, and a gentleman. He looked way out of her league, but he had been her boyfriend. Was her boyfriend, even if she didn't remember it, and even if it was funny to think of him as a boyfriend.

It gave Belle a foreign thrill to think about him like that and it made her realize she liked it.

The nurse came into her room, opening the door rather loudly, and the moment was gone. But he looked at her right before leaving and hesitated, making up his mind on whether or not to ask her something. The expression on her face must have been exactly what he was looking for, because he spoke.

"Can I visit you tomorrow?" His voice was firm but his eyes betrayed his nerves. Belle thought it strange that a man so composed would be so worried of her response. After all, boyfriend or not, she wasn't certain she was worth the trouble.

But the answer could only be one. Yes.

He did come by the next day. There was a chair in the room that he never used, preferring to sit by her side in the bed. It seemed impossible how a man like him could want her, and yet he came just to spend time with her, even if that time was spent in silence. Belle didn't know what to say to him, and he appeared to be afraid of making a wrong move or say the wrong thing. She knew why. Belle had indeed screamed at him to leave her alone, but she wouldn't do it again.

She was starting to like his companionship and understood, though she couldn't remember, why they were together. He was a very nice man, and although the others who came by looked a little scared of him, and she couldn't really blame them for that, with her there was no animosity whatsoever. Indeed, Mr. Gold always looked at her with devotion in his eyes, which was both unsettling and wonderful at the same time.

He was pleasant and smart, and their conversations were not about them, even though she could feel his desire to talk about their relationship. She appreciated he didn't. Belle didn't know him, after all, and to expect her to be the girlfriend of a man she's never seen before was impossible. So they discussed the town, its residents, the daily news, Belle's job. She was curious about that, of course, and his voice was even softer when he talked about her passion for books and how well the library had turned out. He was proud, she though, and that felt nice.

There was also the matter of her father. His visitations began nice enough but he too pressured her too much, begging her to remember and, after a few days, practically ordering her to stop seeing Mr. Gold, telling her how she couldn't possibly understand how evil he truly was. After that day, she began to hate whenever her father came by, and she wondered if Mr. Gold knew how her father felt. She quickly learned that yes, he knew.

One day he came by when Mr. Gold was still there with her, and she could immediately tell the feeling was mutual. But after an expression of distaste that he quickly hid, Mr. Gold just kept looking at her, his gentle expression unchanged. Her father wasn't so courteous. He practically had a fit, screaming how Gold shouldn't be allowed in to see her, how he was going to hurt her, and to get out immediately. Belle didn't like that one bit. Mr. Gold had been wonderful so far. Yes, a little scary and pushy at first, but now he was the only one she was starting to feel a connection for. Not because she remembered him, but because of who he was.

So that episode only brought her closer to Mr. Gold. She would get along with anyone she wanted, thank you very much, and since he always drove the nightmares away just with his presence, she thought him invaluable for that.

The day she got out of the hospital was difficult. Moving in a strange house left her tired and confused, though it was her home and had her stuff. Mr. Gold had asked her to have lunch with him the next day, which both scared and excited her. Ruby said he was trying to woo her, a thought that actually made her blush. She had no recollection of her friends, but it was clear they remembered her. They were very kind, offering her help when she needed it and coming by just to talk, slowly but surely trying to jog her memory.

It didn't work, not in that way. But it did make her feel more comfortable around people.

She was alone now. She sat on the couch in her apartment, still feeling like it wasn't hers. She didn't recognize anything, not the books laying about, not the toothbrush in the bathroom or the light in the living room. Nothing. Did she really buy all of those things herself?

Belle went to bed, tired despite doing nothing for days on end.

The next day she lingered in bed until mid-morning, not really knowing what to do. There was a spot in the ceiling, which looked like nothing in particular. Just like her. A deleted and muted figure.

Then the phone rang. With a jolt, she stared at it, her heart almost beating out of her chest. Ruby told her she'd call her, and it was indeed her new friend's voice that greeted her.

"Hey there, how are you feeling?" Ruby sounded concerned for her.

"I, uh, I'm fine. Just, umm, thinking..." Belle let her voice trail away, not really sure of what to say.

"Well, I'm just calling to remind you of your dat−, I mean, your lunch with Mr. Gold."

Her stomach twisted and her heart sped up. She'd forgotten. "Umm, right. I−"

"You don't have to go, you know? He'd be fine with it." Ruby interrupted. Belle thought about that for a moment, silent. Maybe he'd be, but she didn't want him to be fine with it. She wanted him to want to see her. And if she didn't show up, would he finally have enough of her? Would that infinite patience of his end? But it wasn't the threat of him giving up on her that made her want to have lunch with him. It was the fact she wanted to see him, and talk to him and listen to his soothing voice. Her mind was made up even before she knew it.

"No. I want to go." Ruby sighed on the other side, resigned. She asked if Belle needed help, but she didn't want any. After they hung up, Belle got out of bed, glad to have a goal. She took a shower but it was only when she left the bathroom that the thought of clothes came into her mind. She panicked a little, but was instantly relieved when she opened the closet. Belle thought she had good taste; these looked like something she wanted to wear.

Pity about the shoes though; they were pretty but way too high. And yet, she really wanted to look nice for Mr. Gold. He was always so well-dressed and put together, and so far she had been in a hospital gown with uncombed hair, and he never said anything. Then again, he was probably just too gracious to comment on that. She chose a skirt and blouse with heels, and after glancing at the clock, decided to leave.

She closed the door and hadn't taken two steps when she ran into someone. Quickly apologizing, she heard a familiar voice.

"No matter." Mr. Gold. Great. She blushed, embarrassed by her clumsiness.

"Sorry." She said again, her voice low. He stared at her, much like he always did. Then he smiled with affection in his eyes, the one smile she noticed it was only for her.

"It's alright, really." He continued, but now he seemed a little unsure of himself. "I just thought you might not remember the place, because... Well, I came to pick you up."

That was something that hadn't occurred to her. Emma and Ruby had taken her home and it was true she didn't recognize the streets they drove through, but she had been too distracted to think about that. If Mr. Gold hadn't come, she'd certainly get lost. Belle felt a rush of warmth. How thoughtful of him, sparing her the distress of getting lost in a town where she didn't know anyone or anything. She gave him a timid smile while casting her gaze down.

Mr. Gold caught another blush. How lovely. And how brave was she for not giving up on him yet? Certainly she would prefer the company of a younger man, much closer to her age and with goodness in his heart. Before she crossed that damned line, she had told him how she could never give up on something worth fighting for. And she was holding herself to that promise, even if she didn't remember. If he was a decent man he wouldn't want her to do that; he'd want her to be happy with someone that deserved her. But he wasn't decent, he was desperate. For her and her vibrant smiles, and her love for him.

He offered Belle his arm, which she took after a brief hesitation. He pretended not to see that. It was normal, he kept telling himself. Completely normal.

They walked to his car and he held out the door for her. Belle hesitated again, caught between standing there or enter a stranger's car. But he wasn't exactly a stranger anymore, was he? She couldn't keep pretending to be indifferent towards him, she genuinely liked him.

She got in, fastening the seatbelt while he walked around to his door. They drove in silence to Granny's. Belle was sure he'd suggested they had lunch here because of everyone else she was starting to form relationships. Mary Margaret, Emma, Ruby... If they happened to be there, she'd feel more comfortable. And he was right.

It was Ruby's grandmother who took their order. Mr. Gold told her she liked hamburgers, so Belle took his word for it and ordered that. They ate with that easy companionship he always seemed to elicit from her, another thing that made her believe they truly were together. He talked about everything that left her relaxed, a kindness that didn't escape her.

He was so nice. Belle looked at him with more liberty than before, his politeness and caring manner at odds with his slight nervousness. He wanted everything to go well today, she thought. He truly wanted her happiness, this not-a-stranger-anymore in front of her. The more she looked at him, the more something inside her grew.

He stretched his arm again for her, once they were outside, but she grabbed his hand instead. Not even Belle knew what got into her, but it seemed to make him happy. His hand was warm and firm, while hers was cold and trembling. Belle didn't understand. Everything was going well so far, why was she suddenly feeling like someone just grabbed hold of her heart and ripped it out of her chest?

Oh no, and she wanted to cry. What was this? She stared at the ground, trying to hide her tears with her long hair, something she thought she succeeded in. He didn't say anything, just kept walking until they reached an alleyway, where he gently guided her to. There, he simply put his arms around her, embracing and comforting her with his touch and his words.

He understood, Belle thought. He really did. This strange longing inside her, this need for him that had been building for a while now. A desire to be with him, in his arms, and knowing she was loved. She was so conflicted. A part of her rejected this, because however nice, he was still someone she barely knew; but a different part, the irrational and overwhelming part, wanted her to just give in and hold on to him until her arms were numb, and he finally healed the heartache inside her.

She inhaled his scent, a breathtaking masculine scent that had her cry just like she had in that hospital room, when she was all alone. But now she wasn't alone, she had him here. And she somehow knew he wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't let go. Belle yearned for him, for something she could not name. Still he said nothing, proving once and for all he really knew her and her needs. How good it felt to just be held by him, knowing he had nothing but love in his heart for her.

She calmed down but didn't let go, just looked up at him. Mr. Gold was leaning against the wall, taking her weight into him without complaining, but she knew his leg was probably hurting. She started to pull away but he held her in place, a hand cradling her head against his chest, another secure around her waist. She relaxed again and buried her face in his chest, letting him thread his fingers in her hair as tender as ever, his mouth kissing the top of her head.

Belle wasn't as lost now. Not when he was doing this to her, something akin to worship in his gestures. She moved, not to leave his embrace, but to look at him once again. He held her gaze and then slowly, carefully, his hand left her hair to touch her face, those knowing fingers pausing on her lips, and the same yearning she felt reflected in his expression.

In that moment they were connected by something far more important than memories. There was no doubt in her heart, no hesitation, when he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers. A gentle kiss that sent a rush through her, both longing and desire, and as they stared into each other and tears began to fall again, she gasped his name.

"Rumpelstiltskin."


End file.
